


where time stands still

by IllBeRightBack



Category: Murderdolls (Band), Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Accidental Death, Ambiguous Age, Blow Jobs, Car Accidents, Corpses, Crossdressing, Denial, Dissociation, Facials, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Underage, M/M, Necrophilia, Trauma, pls read notes for specifications of the tags/warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllBeRightBack/pseuds/IllBeRightBack
Summary: warning and tag specifications [don't read if you don't want spoilers]: potential transmisogyny warning in reference to joey wearing makeup and a dress but he's not actually trans, cisnormativity, joey's age is never confirmed but it's mentioned that he looks young enough to potentially be a high school student, demeaning language towards sex workers is used, suspicion that joey may be a prostitute is voiced.
Relationships: Joey Jordison/Corey Taylor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	where time stands still

**Author's Note:**

> warning and tag specifications [don't read if you don't want spoilers]: potential transmisogyny warning in reference to joey wearing makeup and a dress but he's not actually trans, cisnormativity, joey's age is never confirmed but it's mentioned that he looks young enough to potentially be a high school student, demeaning language towards sex workers is used, suspicion that joey may be a prostitute is voiced.

Corey’s hands were clammy on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white, he was gripping and pulling down so hard he thought he might snap it clean off the dashboard, and he didn’t realize the milling sound he was hearing was coming from his own teeth, grinding inside of his mouth.

He couldn’t be certain of how much time had passed since he felt the sensation of his seat belt locking up and biting into his torso, but he could still hear tires screeching in his head.

No matter how deep he tried to make his breaths, they were always too shallow,  insufficient , lungs burning like he was on the verge of suffocation.

He had been perpetually gazing through the windshield for what felt like hours now. Everything within the reach of his headlights had a surreal haze around it due to their brightness. Nothing existed beyond their reach, if he tried to walk outside of where they shone, he would fall into space, tumbling through a void forever. 

The girl… guy…?  _ person _ in the middle of the road was clad in all black and had been blending in a little too well with the night. Corey hadn’t even seen them until they were a fly in his fucking grille. 

_ Who the fuck was walking way out in the fucking boonies like this on the side of a dirt fucking road at two in the fucking morning???  _

_ Stupid bitch. _

_ Fucker was almost… asking for it. _

“Yeah, that’s right, you do something this fucking stupid you’re  _ asking _ for trouble,” he spoke aloud to himself, letting out a nervous laugh. He swallowed hard and it felt uncomfortable, his mouth had become dry over the last…  _ however long _ he’d been sitting here for. 

He thought his hands would tremble when he removed them from the steering wheel to reach for the door handle, but they were surprisingly stable, one hooking into it and pulling, though he wasn’t so sure if his legs would hold up.

He flinched a little when the truck door made its usual creaking sound as he opened it, placing one wobbling leg on the dirt road, then the other, slamming it closed after he finally pulled himself out and onto his feet. They kept him from collapsing, but just barely. He wiped at his sweaty forehead with one hand in vain, his palm was just as damp. 

Tonight hadn’t been the hottest night of the summer so far, but it was close, mixing terribly with the adrenaline and uncertainty coursing through his veins like venom, all coming to a head now that he had left the comfort of his vehicle.

Venturing outside the truck had made his current predicament all too real, like he wasn’t just watching it on a tv screen anymore. 

He suddenly felt fucking rabid, all nerves, brain working through fog and, if he was being honest, pretty agitated that this  _ asshole _ was stupid enough to take a moonlit stroll on a road with no streetlights and now it was  _ his problem _ .

Corey approached the body. It being clad in all black was the first thing he found a little strange. He got closer and realized it was a short black dress, also observing mid-back length black hair. He figured he must have hit some girl walking home. 

But why the fuck was she all the way out here dressed like _ that? _

His joints ached when he accidentally lowered himself a little too fast to get a better look and hit the ground hard, kneeling just a few inches away from the body. 

Her head was facing away from him, so Corey couldn’t see what she looked like coming from the direction of the impact. Her hair was a little messed up from taking the hit, but he could tell it was clean and well taken care of, like it had just been brushed preceding the accident

Corey fisted his hand gently into the sleek black hair, feeling it flow smoothly between his fingers, slowly pulling her head up and turning it so he could see what she looked like. 

The too-bright headlights reflected off her pale face so intensely it was nearly blinding, but he could tell she was… pretty. Not a scratch on this part of her, either. There wasn’t a single blemish other than a steady trickle of blood coming out of her nose.

She was so deathly pale, Corey knew it had to be makeup, like the kind of shit clowns use. She had black shadow blotted onto her eyelids, and lipstick in the same color that bled just a little around the edges. He studied her face for a while, noting another strange detail: she only had one eyebrow drawn onto her face.

What the hell was she doing all the way out here dressed up like Dracula’s bride, no car, no bike, no nothing?

She was so dainty and frail, too. Corey felt his frustration with her for being so brainless dissipate to some degree. 

He still thought she was inviting tragedy upon herself, walking out in the dark like this,  _ but look at that face _ . She looked sweet, almost ethereal. She looked... young. Maybe _ too _ young to know this was a stupid fucking idea. Maybe her boyfriend had dumped her on the side of the road after a fight and she was just trying to get home.

Many questions, and no answers, not even a single clue about what had led them to collide tonight this far outside of town.

Corey’s heart pounded in his ears and his face wouldn’t uncoil from its tight, furrowed position as he continued studying the girl’s face, knuckles now white and aching from the tension where his hand was still clutching her hair and holding her head up off the road.

So pale. So  _ deathly _ pale. He knew it was just makeup, but looking down her body a little further, her bare arms weren’t much darker. 

Corey inhaled deeply, his first full breath in what felt like forever, and exhaled it heavily. It had probably been hours, but time didn’t seem like it could be assed to exist right now, or at least not at this location. Not within the halo of Corey’s headlights illuminating the pair of them.

He gently lowered her head to rest back on the dirt and scratched at the back of his neck, looking up and down the road nervously. No headlights coming from either direction. To be expected at this time, and on the outskirts of town. It probably would’ve been the same story in broad daylight too. 

Corey’s blunt nails chewed into the tattoo on the back of his neck as he tried to form a single thought of what to do, but they all kept floating away from him and out of his reach. 

He looked back down at the girl in front of him. He hadn’t fully assessed the damage to her body yet. He could see from his position that one of her legs was definitely broken, bone threatening to break through her translucent skin like the fucking xenomorph and it made him feel sick to his stomach. He averted his eyes quickly. There didn’t seem to be any tears in the back of her dress, but there might be some in the front where she had skidded across the road. 

Corey had hit her from behind. Another stupid move on the girl’s part.  _ Always walk facing traffic. _ Especially at night. His mother had drilled that rule into his head 300 times when he was a kid and he never forgot for this very reason. It could’ve been him that ended up as roadkill out here at this ungodly hour.

He began to reach his hands out towards her, but paused for a moment, trying to decide on the best tactic to roll her over without causing any more damage. He started with the lower half, placing one hand chastely under her hip and lifting, using the other hand to move her legs over. He focussed hard on the ambient sound of his truck still idling behind him, hoping it would block his brain from registering any potential unpleasant sounds this would cause.

There were none, at least, none that he picked up. Her body looked a little strange, contorted and half-turned over like this. Maybe her back was broken, but Corey wasn’t about to investigate that beyond thinking it. 

_ Nope. No fucking way. _

He carefully grabbed one of her shoulders and turned her top half over at a snail’s pace, holding his breath, hoping for no grisly cracking noises. He knew her insides had to be a mess after being struck at that kind of speed, but ignorance was bliss in this matter, as far as Corey was concerned. Gently, he rested her back on the road, fully mirrored from her previous position now in front of him, and he flinched, scooting back a little at yet another strange revelation. 

Her chest was flat. 

Not like she-has-no-tits flat but just... completely flat. Like,  _ man _ flat. 

With the girl…  _ boy _ on his back now, and the light hitting his face at a different angle, Corey could see the more masculine face structure that had been erased by the bright, direct light Corey had previously seen him in.

“What the fuck…” He breathed quietly to himself, staring ahead. That feeling that he had entered the twilight zone only enveloped him more.

Another potential reason as to why she-  _ he _ had been out here came to light. 

Over the last few years, there’d been quite a few instances of those weird kids from the high school coming to the cemetery on this road. It was an old one, forgotten when the nearest settlement had really started booming, no one buried in it for decades, but the kids would go out to it at night. Usually, it was just to take pictures posing with the headstones and then they’d get popped for trespassing, but sometimes graves would get vandalized, one time a grave was even dug up. It’d been happening for a long time, since Corey himself had been in high school, probably even before that too.

“Fuckin’ freaks,” Corey exhaled to himself. They shouldn’t be up here dicking around in the dark, dressed like weirdos, getting off to macabre shit like that.

He was even more lost than he was before. It was common knowledge that these weird goth kids would fuck around up here where they shouldn’t be, so he could easily get off scot-free if he called the cops to report the incident.

But he didn’t move. He just stared at the corpse while chasing his brain around in circles inside his head, still unable to seize a solid thought. Everything was just slipping through his fingers like water as he mindlessly chewed the inside of his lip, eventually tasting blood.

Despite his most recent discovery about the body, he still found himself thinking that the boy was… pretty.  _ Attractive _ , even. So feminine and soft, like he was baiting Corey. 

He inched closer, crawling back to the body slowly. He grabbed the boy’s chin between his thumb and forefinger gently, turning it to the side of him that Corey was on. 

The trickle of blood coming from his nose had ceased, Corey realized, because he had been turned onto his back. 

He ran his thumb over black lips, smudging it a little in the corner of the boy’s mouth. It felt greasy, and smeared easily, like the type of shit cheap hookers would wear.

Could that be the  _ real _ story of how this boy ended up walking this road alone so late? He was out here on purpose, waiting to get picked up by a random passer-by and hope they were down to fuck a crossdresser, all the way out here with no prying eyes, where it would be more enticing? 

Corey shook his head. He didn’t know and he  _ really  _ didn’t want to think about it anymore. He would never be certain.

All he knew is that the two of them were out here, alone, in the middle of the night, with no one watching, and one of them was in quite the vulnerable position.

_And it_ _wasn’t fuckin’ Corey._

For once, it wasn’t Corey. For once, he had the upper hand. He wasn’t being pushed around and stepped on. He could do whatever he pleased, and there was no one to stop him.

The heel of one of his hands had traveled to where his cock had rapidly started to harden in his jeans at some point during his inspection of the boy’s finer details. The other reached for the thin strap of the dress on one of his frail shoulders. 

Cautiously, he slid it down a little, like he was undressing a porcelain doll, careful and delicate, then he did the same with the other.

Corey had noticed just how scrawny and bony he was, his collarbones looked like he could cut himself on them, and he had been so airy when Corey had turned him over onto his back, he couldn’t have been more than a buck-thirty. 

He pressed the heel of his hand harder against himself, letting out a short grunt as his other hand worked to pull the top of the dress down over the boy’s chest, just a little. He thought that his frame would probably be very feminine as well if he were to undress him fully, but he was afraid to venture too far down his body, revealing some unseen horror that was being concealed by the fabric. 

More deathly pale skin was displayed for him as he pulled it down slowly and stopped, noticing another thing that he thought was strange.

He was utterly hairless, pale chest completely barren. Corey carefully threaded one of his thin arms out of the dress strap and lifted it a little to confirm what he suspected: his armpits were completely hairless as well. He guessed it would be the same story with his legs, but he didn’t want to journey down to that mess and check. 

_ Strange. _

He let out another deep breath, thumb moving back to the boy’s face to curiously rub at the makeup he’d already previously smeared on his lips. They were overdrawn, and the smudging and dark shade only accentuated them more. He felt like he was floating off, being pulled further into a dream, overwhelmed with desire, and ignorant of what he was doing.

Corey let the head of his cock ghost over black-painted lips. He inhaled sharply when he made contact with them and doubled over himself, free hand steadying himself on the ground on the other side of the boy. His joints were beginning to pulse from kneeling for so long, and he’d grown ravenous with his need to preside over the boy.

Pushing past his lips, his mouth was gratifyingly warm. Corey held the back of his head steadily, not moving, just resting with the head of his cock pressed to the back of his throat. 

Corey clutched silky black hair, holding his head in position, frozen except for his heaving chest as he took rapid breaths, feeling like he was suffocating again, daring to make whatever his next move would be. 

He gazed down as he began to pull his cock back out of the boy’s mouth. There were subtle black streaks transferring to it as pulled it out further, stopping when just the head was in his mouth again.

“Cheap slut,” the words were past his lips at the sight of the lipstick smears before he had even processed the thought fully. It’d been gnawing at the back of his mind this whole time, though. The third-rate shit on his face was getting messier and messier, not even trying to cling to his thin lips every time Corey’s cock dragged over them. 

He felt that contempt start to boil inside of him again, contempt for this  _ stupid bitch _ out here walking in the dark, asking for trouble, asking for somebody to come along and fuck them up, and now look what had happened.

_ Stupid bitch, stupid bitch, stupid fucking bitch… _

Corey repeated this hymn over and over to himself as more black lipstick smeared over his cock, at least having half a braincell left to pull out at the last second and come on the boy’s cheek.

He could feel some of the boy’s hairs in his hand where he was still holding his head in position detach from the scalp as his grip intensified. His jizz on the dead boy’s face barely even registered, his pale foundation was more or less the same color.

_ Well... _

Corey’s chest heaved and he was once again aware of his knees aching from being bent on the hard ground for so long. He had no gauge on how long he’d been here, but the level of throbbing signaled it’d been  _ too fucking long _ .

_ That was that.  _

There was nothing on Corey to wipe his semen off the boy’s cheek with, but he still patted his pockets vainly, hoping to find anything helpful.

All he had that he could use was the bottom of his t-shirt, and when he wiped away his mess, some of the white that had been painted onto the boy’s face transferred onto the fabric as well.

That dream-like haze consumed him even further, swallowing him whole, sitting back in the truck, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel yet again.

Or maybe he had never stopped and his defilment had been purely phantasmic. 

Everything felt soft and cloudy. He didn’t remember traveling back to the truck and sitting down again, and he  _ definitely _ would’ve been snapped out of a trance if he’d heard that wretched squeaking of the door. 

_ Yeah, that’s right. _

He’d simply lost himself in fantasy. He’d been sitting here for hours just grinding his teeth, but never exiting and this had all just been some bizarre projection brought on by the recent trauma, surely.

Corey finally felt like he had snapped back into the real world, nodding to himself slowly, then shaking his head again, like he’d just woken up from a long slumber.

Someone would find the boy in the road, and he could fix whatever damage had been done to the front of his truck. Nothing was traceable back to him. 

Corey shifted into reverse and backed up far enough that his headlights no longer illuminated the corpse in front of him. 

And he kept backing up, not giving his rearview mirror a single glance, still staring straight ahead into blackness, until he ended up back at the nearest intersection behind him, turning left down it. 

This was the faster route anyway, he had taken the long way home tonight just because he wasn’t quite ready to retire to the couch with a case of beer for the night. He wanted to clear his head, unwind, and not track the misery of the day all over the house with him.

He breathed a short laugh, the loudest sound he had made all night, the volume startling him a little. He was still sweating profusely, hands slipping a little on the steering wheel. 

Surely the wetness on the front of his shirt was just sweat too. He wouldn’t look when he stripped it off and threw it in the washing machine later, he’d never speak a word about any of this, he’d neglect to check the news for the next few days, and he’d never take the long way home again.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading
> 
> tumblr: @IllBeRightBackAo3


End file.
